Her forearm was concealed beneath a jumble of plastic bags, freely rustling on one another. There had been many ‘just one more stop’ than the phrase would imply. The result was us checking out each cramped shop and perusing each narrow storefront, which was the reason why I was also straining under shopping bags. Only one of them was my own, or rather it contained the supplies that they wanted us to retrieve for the club: a set of velveteen curtains, an assortment of posters, and a tablecloth that had too many frills for my liking.
The rest of these bags belonged to Nicole. And she would easily put even the most hardcore of shopaholics to shame. I wasn’t sure what she would do with a mere half of the shit we picked out, much less all of it. Still, we pressed on past the food court where my stomach bemoaned its hunger with a drawn-out groan that gained her attention.
“You want to grab something to eat?” she asked, slowing by a table.
I shrugged my shoulders, knowing that my dad would be upset if I filled up on junk at the mall instead of his home cooking. That wasn’t to say that she couldn’t convince me otherwise. She must have realized my willpower was wavering too because she beckoned me closer and snatched the bags from me.
"What are you doing?"
She scoffed. "I'm going to run the bags to the car."
"Why don't you let me help?" I asked, offering her my wrist to drape the bags over.
She scoffed once more. "I'd get more help from one of the mannequins in the clothing store. If you want to be useful, why don't you order us something to eat."
Relenting since I knew from experience I wasn't going to win an argument with her, I dropped my arm back down to my side. "What do you want?"
By the time the inquiry reached her ears, Nicole already turned her back to me. She waved a hand over her shoulder, the mountain of shopping bags swaying with each step. "Just get me whatever you get."
Her indecisiveness left me in a lurch, like sure no pressure there. I would just go out and pick exactly what she was craving. I sighed and walked across the crowded food court toward a small Chinese fast-food restaurant. The smell of grease permeated the air, hanging heavy over some of the healthier alternatives. There was no long line to join, so I slid up to the counter of Moonstar to place an order for two bowls of chicken stir fry. With a gesture of his head, the employee lugging around stacks of boxes pointed with his chin to a nearby kiosk.
I found myself in line behind a kid dangling a credit card between his pointer and index finger. He was slow to decide what he wanted from the menu, tapping multiple times on the same option. When it was my turn, I stepped up and punched in my order, slid my debit card into the card reader, and snatched my receipt. Then, I leaned on the countertop, grimacing as my sleeve landed in a sticky spot that had gone undetected by the cleaning crew.
That was how Nicole found me, jabbing me in the side to announce her presence. To my credit, I only let out a low whine that attracted a few confused glances. They didn't linger long, probably filling away the fact that I was strange in their subconscious and moving on with their lives.
"You've been waiting long?"
"Probably five minutes. Shouldn't be much longer until the food's ready."
Nicole nodded, leaning against the counter beside me. Our elbows touched, and I considered it another win for me that I maintained contact without complaint. She didn't even seem aware of the fact, her eyes scanning the bustling food court and taking in the people coming and going.
"So where to after this?" she asked. "We've hit most of the stores, but we can also loop around."
"Nicole," I started, pausing after getting her attention to think about how to let her down easily. Seriously, this girl's stamina for shopping was unmatched. "I'm going home after this. We got the stuff we came for, and there's still school tomorrow."
"You sound like an old man." She didn't argue the point any further but did pout cutely, which made me feel like the bad guy.
I sighed, jabbing my finger in the direction a little past the area we were in. "Why don't we try our luck at the claw machine before we leave?"
Looking over to where the machine was, she seemed to weigh the pros and cons, while I waited with bated breath. Just kidding. I was waiting for the restaurant worker who showed me to the kiosk to hand me the paper bag with our food. I gave him a quiet 'thanks,' and we walked over to one of the identical tables surrounded by chairs. They were all a putrid shade of brown and the chairs were splintered and creaky from excessive use throughout the years. Nicole sat on the opposite end of me and did not hesitate to rip open the stapled bag. Steam poured out, washing over my face and making me shy away to avoid the intense outpour of heat. She still did not give a damn, scarfing down the stir fry with the provided wooden spoon. My bites looked dainty in comparison to how she wolfed it down.
"Fine," she swiped at her mouth with a napkin, "a few rounds of the claw machine, and then we'll leave. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on your beauty sleep."
"You're far too kind," I replied, noting that we’d probably have to get some change from one of the stores first.
“Don’t go telling other people. I'll deny it.”
Even if I tried to, it wasn't as though they would believe me. So instead, I put on a show of disbelief, acting as though I couldn't possibly fathom what she was saying. But her trying to hide her laughing behind her closed fist gave away my facade; however, she grew bolder, moving her hand aside and snorting a little. A wet noodle flew from her mouth with surprising velocity and landed on the table with a wet thunk. For a moment we both just stared at it–me in amusement and her in bewilderment. By then my attempts at keeping my amusement restrained had failed, and my chuckles turned into full-blown laughter. Nicole didn't share in the merriment, swinging at me and actually forcing me to duck low in my seat.
She grabbed a napkin to clean up the mess. "You're an asshole..."
"And here I was about to tell you how it added character to this fine dining establishment. You might just make it as a sprinkler yet."
"I really do hate you."
It was funny how I could no longer believe her on that, no matter how clipped and cold she sounded. Maybe if we had been back to our first few days in the clubroom, I would have had no qualms. Now with her cheeks tinged pink and lips forced downward, it was clear she lacked any real malice. We had come a long way from those first few tense meetings, although I guess neither of us had put on the best of showings at the time.
"It really has been awhile since it's just been the two of us," I said in between a forkful, giving voice to my thoughts in an obvious change of subject.
She accepted my small show of mercy, kicking her ankles over one another and sitting up straight to finish the last of her meal. "Not since the club started. And when I had to save your ass from getting beat to a pulp."
"I like to think of it as evening the odds." I stood, gathering up our trash and bringing it to the nearest trash can as Nicole tagged along. "Come on, let's try and win something before they kick you out for being a public nuisance, you little food flinger."
"You're such an ankle-biting bitch."
"Ok, that felt like a much lower blow than what I said."
She shrugged her shoulders, elbowing me in the process. "It's all about perspective."
My perspective was that I made a mistake feeling sorry for you at all, but it was too late to back out now. The claw machine awaited us in all its rigged glory and cheaply-made prizes.